


Worship

by zarabithia



Series: Porn Sunday [12]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 12:25:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14260932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: Written for the prompt: "Okoye riding his face and T'Challa eating her out for the GODS""





	Worship

Tradition is important to them both, and although some Wakanda traditions have been deemed … flexible… of late, this is not something that will be denied. This is sacred, a bonding ritual demanded by the gods themselves since the tribes united and the Dora Milaje pledged their allegiance to the throne.

He comes to her room, as tradition demands. She answers him, her long dark red robes taking the place of the uniform she traditionally wears. His own attire is battle armor, as befitting both the king and the warrior she has sworn her allegiance to.

“My general,” he greets her, and he bows deeply at the waist. “You have sworn your allegiance to me. In the ways of the kings before me, I swear my allegiance to you.”

His words are formal, but the smile that accompanies them is sweet. It tells of the softness that has worried his mother, of the goodness that she fears will make his reign so difficult (not for Wakanda, but for him.)

Okoye does not share Ramonda’s fear; she has seen her king’s strengths.

So she accepts the equally sweet kisses that he offers; his lips are not unlike the wind against her sweat-soaked skin during a training session - brief, welcome, and a reprieve from the strain of her labor.

But although his kisses can be gentle, his gift cannot be for fear of insulting the gods. Their gods demand servitude, allegiance, devotion and surrender. So he lies upon his back and she straddles his face. Her gown parts easily and she can see the devotion in his gaze as his tongue dips into her without hesitation. The devotion makes her think of W'Kabi’s lack of it, and the way that he’d never cared for the privilege of tasting her.

She shifts, to allow her king better access. Her knees dip further into the mattress and she feels it give lightly beneath her weight. Her king’s hands reach up to grasp her from behind, and she knows it is an attempt to urge her on.

“Do not worry. I will not freeze,” she assures him. “As long as you do not.”

He laughs against her clit, and the movement is enough to make her reach forward and grab the headboard to steady herself. A startled moan accompanies the movement of her king’s tongue pushing more insistently and deeper inside her.

It is not the last moan of the night, nor is it the last time she clings to the headboard for support.


End file.
